


Attention

by seterasilence



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Vulva (Good Omens), But just a little, Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), F/F, Ineffable Wives | Female Aziraphale/Female Crowley (Good Omens), Pirates, Rope Bondage, Someone Will Remember Us Zine NSFW Addition, Tied Up Aziraphale, To Make It Spicy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:27:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26617444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seterasilence/pseuds/seterasilence
Summary: Spoils of war on the high seas!Originally written for the Someone Will Remember Us Ineffable Wives Zine - NSFW Addition
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 53





	Attention

Crowley’s ship fired first. 

Cannons exploded in bursts of sparks and iron, leaving huge holes of splintered wood in the hull of the opposing vessel. The sharp scent of gunpowder peppered the air, leaving it gritty with familiar notes of sulphur. Crowley grinned as she strode across the deck, miracling the splashing waves to narrowly avoid her, as her crew threw hooks with the intent to capture, loot, and take prisoners. 

The military ship fired back, but the poor thing wasn’t equipped to outmaneuver Crowley’s swift vessel, the perfect, gorgeous thing. She’d borrowed it from the poor sods docking in Barbados, hoisted her snake and skulls flag and christened the thing as _Eden’s Plunge._ On the nose, yes, but with her long locks cascading down her back and victory bubbling on her tongue, she knew it was worth it. All this chaos and destruction was worth being so demonly outrageous. She threw her head back—her tri-cornered hat nearly slipping off her head—as she laughed. Her fangs extended and the rest of her pirate crew whooped and hollered in response. Heavy ropes connected the two ships, slung across the angel-eye blue ocean, and shouts echoed through the blooming cannon fire smoke.

“Surrender, ye scallywags, ye pompous urchins!” 

What could be aboard? Ink, tea, rum, slaves? She’d free them all—the slaves could join her crew, sail the seven seas under her hellbound command, or they could drop them off wherever they wished to go. The tea and rum would make for one wild party, but the crew had earned it. 

“Captain,” a crewmember said, popping up next to her and nudging her elbow. “We captured the ship’s commander and stuck her in your quarters for questioning.”

“She?” Crowley put her hands on her narrow hips, the worn blue high waisted coat with tails hugging her slip-slim waist. Women didn’t regularly captain vessels. After kissing Anne Bonny goodbye, Crowley thought she was the only one left.

“Quite the fuss she made,” the crewmember said. “She’s convinced she knows you. Your oldest friend, she says.”

Crowley’s grin widened. Had she caught herself an angel? “Let the commander stew for a while. Strip that ship down to its nails before it sinks.”

“No trace, Captain?”

“None. As if it never existed. We’ve earned ourselves a fun romp tonight, don’t you think?”

“Aye, Captain! Aye!

***

Crowley opened the door to her cabin to the prettiest sight: an angel, on her knees, hands bound behind her back in rough rope, and a long braid of wheat-gold curls spooled over her shoulder. From this angle, she could see the broad shape of Aziraphale’s backside, indicating the angel had indeed commanded her military vessel while sporting the female inclination. 

“Not often you see a lady in command of a trade shipment.” Crowley prowled around so she could see Aziraphale’s face, illuminated by the sunlight streaming through the big bay windows. She leaned against the huge desk that Aziraphale knelt in front of, crossing her arms and legs. The crystal blue waters of the tropics sparkled with neither cloud nor bird in sight. They were far from shore. There was nowhere to go, except to head for that horizon line. A shiver of pleasure ran through Crowley at the thought: _You came after me._

“I was on an important mission,” Aziraphale hissed, wriggling in her bonds. “I was supposed to ensure the goods reached a colony in great need and instead, you sunk my ship.”

“Angel, please. We both know that ship was doing nothing but ruining lives, all in the name of profit, not good.”

“You would assume that, serpent.”

“Feisty,” Crowley hummed, undoing the row of buttons down her trousers. “I know how hard it is on you, being caught out in such a way. You don’t like losing to me, angel.” She peeled the fly open, exposing the sharp ridges of her hips and pubic bone. “I don’t think you were on a mission at all. I think you were heading somewhere you didn’t want anyone Upstairs to know.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You hate ships.” Crowley shimmied out of her trousers, leaving her bare on the bottom and done up in frills and military jacket on top. She grabbed Aziraphale’s hair and pulled her closer, resting that angelic chin against her upper thigh. “Now earn your keep, or I’ll throw you overboard.”

Aziraphale’s eyes flashed with anger, but her mouth left a hot kiss on Crowley’s skin. She nudged up, and Crowley balanced against the desk so she could spread her legs further until Azriaphale’s tongue delved hard inside her and swept up to her clit. Crowley’s head fell back at the touch as desire pooled in her belly. _You came for me. I set these things up, run away from you just to see what you’ll do, but more and more you come for me._

Aziraphale pressed closer, her tongue a swirl of delicate wet pressure, making Crowley come in a slow, small way, her hips rocking, the sunlight beaming against her closed eyelids, painting everything in red. 

“You’ve had your fun,” Aziraphale said, with a wet kiss on her inner thigh. “Now untie me.”

Crowley shuddered and snapped her fingers. The rope fell from Aziraphale’s wrists. The angel stood, pressing up into the cradle of Crowley’s spread thighs, and then levered Crowley up so she balanced fully on the desk. Crowley squeezed Aziraphale’s hips with her knees, crossed her legs, and propped herself up with her arms behind her. Aziraphale pressed a hand up and into her, fingers curling against that spot inside that left her writhing, but Aziraphale didn’t move. Simply held her as her thumb brushed over Crowley’s clit, before the fingers inside her seemed to tug. Crowley followed, inching to the very edge of the desk with a small cry, held fast. She didn’t mind. She’d accepted this leash long ago. 

“I missed you,” Aziraphale said, suddenly. 

Crowley panted, her hands frantic at the blood-stained bow at Aziraphale’s throat, slipping down to undo the gold buttons of her red jacket. Aziraphale’s grip inside her tightened, as if squeezing a firm if tender fruit. Crowley whimpered and clenched.

“I had to join the Navy,” Aziraphale continued, her thumb starting a quick smooth rub. “You’re right. I hate it. The scurvy and lice are disgusting—so many yellowed teeth and rank water. There’s no possible way you find this lifestyle appealing. The last time I found you, you were drunk in France, your skirts up around your waist with jewels on your fingers and a lapdog. What are you doing all the way out here to begin with?”

“I’m causing chaos. Destruction. Formenting,” Crowley whispered. Aziraphale somehow had gotten Crowley’s coat undone as well, her broad fingered hand slipping inside the shirt to cradle her breast and roll her nipple. Crowley felt held fast and contained, except the bars of this prison were ones she’d dreamed of, asked for, yearned for, sulked and sauntered and sniped for. The things she did, to get the angel’s attention.

“Yes, but did you have to go so far away to do it?” Aziraphale asked, her fingers relentless. 

All responses slipped from Crowley's white-out brain. Aziraphale pressed her mouth to Crowley’s, tongue sweeping out and eagerly asking, before the demon opened easily for her. Crowley let out a small sound of frustration until Aziraphale’s mouth slanted and claimed her fully—she wanted to touch and caress the angel, but her stupid arms had to keep her propped up, her stupid legs forced to be stilled as Aziraphale held her in this vise. She nudged her hips up, hoping it conveyed her want. All she wanted was to touch. 

The heat inside her sharpened and overwhelmed her, an orgasm wrenched from her as a throbbing wave. She gasped and quivered, held fast. Aziraphale smiled, her pleasure as clear as the azure spread of water cradling the ship. “How lovely,” Aziraphale whispered as Crowley became limp in her hands. “Gorgeous thing, you are.”

Crowley tilted her head up, asking without words, and Aziraphale obliged, claiming her mouth again. 

A sharp knock at the door had them pulling apart. 

“Bloody hell,” Crowley snarled and nearly moaned in loss as Aziraphale’s glistening hands left her. Another snap made Crowley’s clothes close around her whip-thin body and Aziraphale’s knees hit the wooden floor hard. Another snap and Aziraphale’s wrists were tied behind her back once more. Aziraphale glared at her as Crowley leapt from the desk, bending over to run a finger down Aziraphale’s jaw, ghosting just over her angel’s lips. 

The knock came again and a voice asked from behind the closed door, “Captain, the winds have picked up and we spotted a ship in pursuit. Orders?”

Crowley yanked the door open and bared her teeth at her first mate. “Outrun them. Take the prisoner to my bed chambers. She’ll be of some use yet. Keep her bound.”

_Keep her tied and waiting for me._


End file.
